


It’s About Time

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Sauna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23181478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Felix and Sylvain never seem to have enough time, so when they get a moment alone in the sauna, they make the most of it.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 91





	It’s About Time

**Author's Note:**

> just a little sauna frot

There’s never enough time. 

That’s Sylvain’s least favorite thing about war. He hates all of it—the blood, the killing, the crushing sense that this is all one big misunderstanding blown out of proportion and that a little diplomacy could have spared their friends’ lives—but what he hates most of all is knowing that one of these battles is going to be their last. 

It’d be irresponsible not to fuck Felix every chance he gets. 

The moment the door closes and they have the sauna to themselves, Felix is on him, closer than steam and sweat. His teeth scrape Sylvain’s neck as he growls, “I was about to kick that lazy monk out myself.” 

“Pretty sure he was meditating.” And that’s all Sylvain cares to say on the matter, because he’s busy whipping off Felix’s shirt and tugging down his shorts, and there are so many better things to talk about. 

“Don’t we have a church for that?” How Felix can sound so angry with Sylvain sucking at his neck is an infuriating mystery, and Sylvain vows to make him crack.

“Yeah.” He says it low and rough. “We should fuck there, too.”

It should have been a good start, but Felix just makes a disgusted noise. “You’re lucky we fuck at all.” 

Not the reaction Sylvain hoped for. Felix yanks his shirt up and it catches on his ear. They aren’t very good at this yet, which is funny, because sex is the only thing Sylvain considers himself good at.

He frees himself from his shirt and kisses Felix, hands gliding over his slick, hot skin—another reason to be quick: Felix may die of heat stroke in here if they aren’t. Sex and kissing, those are the two skills Sylvain is proud of, and he nips at Felix’s lower lip, draws it into his mouth, sucks it like he might strike nectar.

That moan, when Sylvain finally earns it, is better than he imagined. It comes out more like a shaky breath— _“a-aah!”—_ through Felix’s open mouth, hotter on Sylvain’s skin than the steam from the coals. Sylvain releases his lip and captures his tongue instead, and now he’s moaning too, because Felix somehow got his shorts off without him realizing and he’s kneading Sylvain’s ass better than any baker in Fódlan.

“How do you want _mmm—_ ” Sylvain loses control of his voice when Felix drags a finger up the cleft of his ass. It’s nice and slippery in the sauna, but not slippery enough for him to push in. Before Sylvain can make it known, Felix grabs his ass in both hands and molds their bodies, trapping their cocks between their wet stomachs. The slide is so good that Sylvain’s mouth waters for more.

“Touch me.” Felix demands it, even though he’s given Sylvain no room to follow his command. Sylvain slides his hands up Felix’s back instead, grips fistfuls of his hair and makes friction with his body because Felix won’t let him go. 

Someone could walk in at any moment, Sylvain realizes, with one eye on the door and an eager heart. Just the same, he speeds his erratic rhythm and makes a pretty purple mark just under Felix’s jawline so that even if they don’t get caught, everyone will know. _It’s obvious,_ Felix had scoffed about the last hickey. _Only your mouth is that big._

It had taken a minute to figure out he wasn’t annoyed—he’d been bragging.

Sylvain wants to give him something else to brag about, but they need to hurry. It gets harder when Felix’s solid thigh parts Sylvain’s legs to match the way he’s spreading Sylvain’s ass.

“Should’ve bribed the Sauna Boss if you wanted me like that,” Sylvain purrs in Felix’s ear.

Felix jerks away. “What the hell does the Sauna Boss have to do with me fucking you?” The temptation to kiss that little snarl off his face is overwhelming.

“Bribe him not to let anyone in, Felix.” The explanation comes from deep in Sylvain’s throat. “But if you think I’d even consider sharing you then I guess I need to make myself clear.”

A challenge blazes in Felix’s eyes, so bright Sylvain can almost hear a match being struck. Sylvain isn’t one to back down, and he grabs this one by the balls—not hard, but firm enough to make Felix gasp. Sylvain eases up immediately, pulls at just the flesh instead. It always amuses him (be it his own balls or someone else’s), the way the skin stretches and retracts. Ignoring Felix’s stiff cock is amusing, too, flushed purple and leaking for Sylvain. He tests the weight of Felix’s sack instead, rolls it in his palm, teases the underside with his fingertips. Felix makes a little grunt and scrunches his eyes shut. Does he like that? Does he want Sylvain to pull harder? Would he like it if Sylvain got his mouth around them?

Imagining that texture under his tongue, the taste of Felix’s skin, makes Sylvain’s cock throb. 

“Sylvain.” A warning is still a warning, even uttered through parted lips with half-lidded eyes, so those questions remain unanswered (for now). 

Reluctantly, Sylvain releases his balls, trails his fingers up to the base of Felix’s cock, savoring the shiver it elicits. Goddess, his skin just _glows_ in here, glistening wet and begging to be touched. Sylvain reaches, compelled, for Felix’s abdomen, strums it with his thumb. If only they had time for soft hands and gentle touches, they’d spend hours tracing each other into ecstasy. 

A creak reminds them that they can’t. It’s not the door (they both check); it’s a call to action. Their eyes meet and something—lust, love, adoration—overflows. Sylvain wraps his fingers around Felix’s cock and strokes him hard enough to bring him closer, pulling a delicious moan from his throat. Sylvain can still feel where he’s been claimed when Felix releases his ass, but all Felix does with those hands is palm the head of his own dick, leaving Sylvain aching in neglect. 

“Come on,” Sylvain whines (even though he deserves it). Watching Felix rub his own slit is equal parts mesmerizing and frustrating, but for the life of him, Sylvain can’t stop jerking Felix off. Let him make his own bed—the satisfaction of making Felix come first will be just as sweet as an orgasm. 

Felix seems to realize it at the same moment; he grunts and finally, _finally,_ grips Sylvain instead. Sylvain rewards his own patience with a reckless moan, because it was worth the wait. There’s nothing like the feeling of Felix’s fingers—long, elegant, swordsman rough—running up and down his cock, alternately skimming and squeezing. The sauna hits just right: friction on the upstroke and a smooth glide down. Sylvain copies his movements because of course they like the same things, especially at the same time. It’s been like this since their first kiss, maybe since their first fight. Imagining his own bowstring-taut nerves twined with Felix’s makes it that much more intense. 

“Next time,” Sylvain gasps out, “I’m going to suck your balls.” He grabs them, kneads them with his other hand and Felix bites his lip too late to cover his moan.

“Whatever shuts you up.” It’s unconvincing, but then Felix toes the line of _too much_ with a twist of his wrist. Sylvain jerks forward. His cock jabs Felix’s—slicked with precome and steam and sweat—and the contact sends them reeling. There’s enough time for this, to push their dicks up together, to let their hands work as one. It’s long since become automatic, accommodating their height difference, and Sylvain cups Felix’s ass with his other hand to support him.

It’s Felix who urges them faster, and the noises they’re making dissolve into broken, desperate things. It’s Felix who grabs his chin too, crashes their lips together rough and hot. They both need water, they need to get out of the sauna, but not before they drink each other down to the last drop. 

The hand on his chin slides down his chest, and then Felix is pinching his nipple, or trying to. It slips through his fingers, and Felix goes in again, harder, swallowing Sylvain’s yell into their unbroken kiss. Sylvain’s fingers find turnabout on Felix’s rim, but time is short.

One tease, one more tweak and they’re coming one after the other, too close to call. Time and the need to breathe steal the kiss from them, and Sylvain glances down to watch their come pulse out, flowing over their cocks and fingers with all the urgency of molasses, as if their bodies know they need to savor every second together. Sylvain looks back up, back into Felix’s eyes to cling to the aftershocks, and Felix drives his forehead into Sylvain’s hard enough to constitute a headbutt.

“The things I do for you.” Affection floods Felix’s voice. “Someone could have walked in at any second.”

Sylvain winks. “I know. Pretty thrilling, huh?” 

They fall out of sync when Felix scoffs and narrows his eyes at the door. “We didn’t bring towels.”

Sylvain has to be quick (because they don’t agree on this either). He brings Felix’s hand—the come-drenched one—to his mouth and licks a stripe from his wrist to the tip of his finger.

“Ugh, fine,” Felix grumbles. He looks away too, all for show. “Be an animal.” 

“Don’t mind if I do.” But Sylvain doesn’t lick up much more—he’s too thirsty for that—and Felix doesn’t return the favor, though his tongue does dart out to clean a bit of lingering come from Sylvain’s lip. 

Fresh air hits like an orgasm for his lungs once they’re dressed and outside, and Sylvain is a second away from dragging Felix to the dining hall for water and a snack.

“All done?”

Sylvain doesn’t recognize the gruff voice, and from the look on Felix’s face, neither does he. The only other person around is the Sauna Boss, and Felix and Sylvain turn to look at him. 

His voice certainly suits his chains and armor, but then he winks and says, “Kept everyone out for you.”

“Thanks!” says Sylvain.

Felix sees it differently. “Mind your own damn business or I’ll cut you down!” 

The boss just chuckles as Sylvain pulls Felix away. “Gosh, Felix,” Sylvain begins. “He did us a favor. Or did you secretly _want_ to get caught?”

“Shut your mouth.” Felix’s cheeks burn even redder than they were in the sauna. “That pervert was probably watching us. We are never having sex in there again.”

That’s fine with Sylvain. He doesn’t need steam to make Felix sweat. 

He just hopes they're lucky enough to have the time.

**Author's Note:**

> rejected tag: scrotum enthusiast sylvain jose gautier
> 
> changing the title of my fic the morning after posting? it’s more likely than you think.
> 
> anyway this is so rough and i know it’s been done before, but i has to get a little sauna action out there because i feel like my smut is crap and the only way to get better is to practice my craft. i actually wrote two pieces with this theme but [the first one was way too plotty](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23251576) so i switched povs and cut right to the sex. maybe i will also write [a sequel to this one where sylvain gets his his mouth on felix’s scrot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23535160). who knows? anything could happen.
> 
> thanks so much for reading ❤️


End file.
